First Year: Phoenix Rising
by SilveryMoon34
Summary: Next Generation. Mild Scorpius Malfoy is sorted into Gryffindor, much to everyone's shock. Scorpius thinks it is the worst thing to ever happen to him-until Rose Weasley and James and Albus Potter take him under their wing.
1. Making Friends

**A/N: Okay, don't judge me too harshly. I was thinking about the next generation of Harry Potter and Scorpius instantly came to mind. As near as I remember, we never really (officially) get a good snapshot of his personality, so my strange mind started thinking…and this was the beginning of the result. Apologies if the concept has been beaten to death; I'm just warming to this part of the HP fandom, and well…I just had to do it. Opinions are always welcome! =)**

**First Year: Phoenix Rising**

After a quick hug from his mother and a nod and a slight smile from his father, Scorpius Malfoy marched quickly but gracefully to the waiting train, luggage and owl in tow, back straight and head held high. The platform was emptying quickly—the train would be leaving in a matter of minutes.

He reached it just in time. Once inside, out of his father's piercing sight, the boy's shoulders slumped, tears prodded by a sudden wash of homesickness prickling at his eyes. He snuffled a bit, wiping at his eyes. He jumped, startled, as the train gave a warning lurch and blasted its whistle. He needed to find a seat now, or he'd be hanging about in the corridor for the whole trip.

This was harder than he thought it would be. Every door he knocked on was full, until…

He pulled open a door somewhere in the middle of the train. It had only one occupant, a redheaded girl about his age. She was sitting cross-legged on the seat, a worn book in her lap and a pretty, bright orange cat leaning against her hip.

"Excuse me," She looked up with calm blue eyes. "Do you mind? Everywhere else is full."

She smiled at him warmly. "Sure."

"Thanks," he put away his trunk. As he sat down shyly in front of the girl, she held out a hand.

"I'm Rose," she said kindly.

Scorpius smiled in return and took the offered hand, shaking it as he replied, "I'm Scorpius."

Rose's smile twisted a bit in wry amusement. "Wow. That's a mouthful."

He grinned. "Yeah."

Rose's cat looked up at Scorpius as he settled into his seat. He studied the boy for a second, then got up and leaped lightly to the other seat, stepping into his lap as if the cat had known him for years, purring as he rubbed against Scorpius's arm.

Rose made a face. "Sorry. Fred was a bit over socialized as a kitten, thanks to my huge family."

Scorpius shrugged. "I don't mind." His mother had had a cat—a mean, grumpy old thing that hissed when anyone but his mother got too close. An affectionate cat was a nice change.

Rose went back to her book with an amused smile. As Scorpius petted the cat, he studied her out of the corner of his eye. Red hair…freckles…his father had told him more times than he could count that these were the classic signs of a Weasley—a name he had spoken of with as much distain as he had spoken of the Malfoy name with praise. He had called them…what was it? Blood traitors.

Scorpius didn't fully understand the term, and in all honesty, he could care less. For though he would never tell his father so, he didn't share his family's obsession with names. He liked his name, he was_ proud_ of his name, but beyond that, with all the complicated blood traitor (ugh, he was really starting to dislike that term) business…it all meant less than spit to him. He wondered, briefly, if Rose thought the same.

As the train started off, the door opened again, and a boy their age poked his head in. He had unruly dark hair and bright green, almond shaped eyes. A smattering of freckles dusted the bridge of his nose, like Rose's. He looked annoyed and upset.

"Rosie? Can I sit with you? James and his friends are being rowdy again."

"Sure." As he sat down, he noticed Scorpius. "Erm. Hello," he muttered shyly.

"Al, this is Scorpius. Scorpius, this is my cousin Albus, but everybody calls him Al." Rose said, looking at the smaller boy fondly.

"Hello," Scorpius offered his hand. Al shook it with a shy smile. Fred hopped over to the latest newcomer, greeting him with a quiet meow.

Growing slightly bored as the following silence stretched on, Scorpius pulled out the basic book of spells his father had insisted he start reading over the summer out of the smaller bag he had brought on board with him.

Albus must have seen the title, because his eyes widened in surprise. "You're reading that already?" Rose looked at Scorpius curiously at her cousin's words.

"Finished reading it over the summer," he muttered, slightly self conscious, though a small part of him that sounded suspiciously like his father insisted that he should be proud of the accomplishment. "Started on the spells a few weeks ago."

"Brilliant. Me too." Albus beamed. Talk about spells brought the other boy out of his shell, apparently. "I've reached the unlocking charm _Alohomora_."

Scorpius nodded, a real smile working its way across his pale face. Albus's sudden burst of enthusiasm was contagious. "Me too. It's the one after that that's killing me."

"Really? May I?" Albus's green gaze flickered to the book, now open in Scorpius's lap.

"Sure." He handed it over. Rose gave a rather unladylike snort, drawing their attention.

"What?" Albus said, almost defensively. She grinned at him, reaching over to ruffle his already messed up hair.

"I know which House you two are going in: Ravenclaw."

Albus's face turned pensive. "That wouldn't be too bad." He looked at Scorpius, silently asking his opinion.

Scorpius shrugged, as if he didn't care either way, but inside his mind was reeling. All his life he had known he was destined for House Slytherin, as his father had been before him, and his father before him…the thought of breaking his father's sacred, much praised tradition absolutely terrified him.

He felt his heart calm down as Albus changed the subject. "Here it is," he joined Scorpius on the other seat without a second thought, propping the book up on curled legs so both of them could see it. "Let's practice it together…?" The eager statement turned into a shy question at the end. Scorpius smiled again in answer, drawing his wand.

They struggled with the spell until Rose took pity on them and joined them. That was how it was for the remainder of the trip. Rose who, in Scorpius's opinion, could give even the best Ravenclaws trouble, tutored them, but not in the dry, demanding way Scorpius was used to from his father; he actually had fun. Rose and Albus argued like siblings over how to pronounce the words, which, when they came to a particularly hard word, nearly had Scorpius in tears he was laughing so hard at their squabbling.

He was still giggling to himself over the latest incident, when Rose suddenly froze. "We need to change into our robes," she said quickly. "We're almost there."

"Right," Albus looked at Scorpius. "Rose gets the compartment. She was here first."

"Fair enough." Scorpius followed him out in search of the bathrooms or an empty compartment, robes in hand. Once changed, they came back, sitting down just in time to feel the train slow to a crawl. The three new friends exchanged frightened but excited glances. They had arrived.

Once outside, in the cooler air, they heard a voice bellow: "Firs' years! Firs' years, o'er here!"

"Hagrid!" Rose and Albus squealed, running full pelt toward the voice. Scorpius, amused, followed at a slower pace, arriving in time to see both of them throw themselves into the arms of a _giant _of a man. He was easily the most intimidating person Scorpius had ever seen. He had a great, wild, messy brown beard and equally wild, long hair, and hands almost as big as Scorpius's entire torso.

"Rosie an' Al!" The great man said happily, hugging Rose and Albus back. " 'Aven't seen yeh two in years!" he stepped back, beaming down at them. "Yer the spittin' image o' Ron and Harry, when they were yer age! 'Cept yeh look more like o' girl, Rosie."

Both of them beamed at the praise. Scorpius relaxed, approaching, warmed by the warmth of the giant man's eyes and smile.

Rose glanced back, remembering him. "Oh yeah! Hagrid, this is Scorpius. Scorpius, this is Hagrid, a good friend of the family."

Scorpius smiled. "Hello." That smile withered with the warmth in Hagrid's eyes as he looked at Scorpius. Suspicion the boy didn't entirely understand flickered in those black depths, but Hagrid was perfectly, if coldly, civil as he replied, "Hullo."

Then he looked quickly back to Rose and Albus. "Need ter get yeh all ter the castle," he winked at them before turning and resuming his shouting. Scorpius followed after Rose and Albus, feeling cold.

When they reached the boats, Albus clambered in first, looking giddy. Scorpius was a gentleman, if nothing else: he helped Rose in next, steadying the little craft with his foot.

He felt a cold black stare on his back the whole time.

Once Rose was in and settled, he climbed in behind, expecting to have to push off. At a signal from Hagrid, however, each one of the little boats started off all on their own.

"_Wow_," Albus gasped.

"Wait till you see the castle," Scorpius said. His mother's favorite stories to tell him when he was little were all about the wonders of Hogwarts. He couldn't wait to see them for himself. All of the other first years close enough to hear him, Albus included, glanced at him with shining, excited eyes.

When them came into sight of the castle, shining gloriously bright against the darkened sky, everyone gasped. Scorpius felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs; it was a long moment before he could recover and breathe properly again.

They were all so busy gaping, it felt like a mere ten seconds before their boats bumped gently into Hogwarts's dock, rather than the actual ten minutes.

A severe looking woman in black robes, with her silvery hair tied back in a stiff bun, waited for them, peering at them from behind gold spectacles. "Thank you, Hagrid," she said curtly to the giant, who nodded.

To them, she said, "I am Professor McGonagall, your Headmistress and Head of House, should you find yourselves sorted into Gryffindor." Here she paused for a fraction of a second, her gaze lingering on Rose and Albus. Her gaze swept on as she continued. "If you all would please follow me."

As she swept off, everyone followed nervously—except Rose. She was practically bouncing with excitement. "Al!" she whispered loudly. "Scorpius! We're really about to see Hogwarts! On the inside!"

"Yeah," Albus exchanged a nervous glance with Scorpius, who felt a faint twinge of worry for the smaller boy. While Rose's face was flushed from her chin to the roots of her fiery hair with excitement, Albus looked extremely pale and kind of…green. Like he was about to be physically sick kind of green.

And he wasn't the only one. Most of the other faces Scorpius could see were growing steadily greener the closer they got to the clamor of the Great Hall, somewhere above them. Even Scorpius's stomach sloshed uncomfortably, making his suddenly glad that he had turned down Rose's polite offer of part of her sandwich earlier that day.

When they reached a beautiful marble staircase, Professor McGonagall didn't pause; she drifted, as graceful as an austere silver and black swan, up the steps. Scorpius saw Albus suddenly grab his cousin's hand out of the corner of his eye, and squeeze. Rose smiled and patted his hand reassuringly. Scorpius suddenly found himself wishing that he had a hand to hold on to, too.

They arrived at a pair of polished double doors; they opened silently before McGonagall's swift, determined stride. The crowded Great Hall instantly silenced as they entered, but none of them noticed. Scorpius craned his head backwards to look at the ceiling.

The stone arches of the room's walls molded seamlessly into a clear late summer, early fall night sky, studded with stars that twinkled like distant diamonds, dusted with the slightest, wispy hints of clouds. It was easily one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen—seconded only by his earlier look at Hogwarts, all lit up and shining like a diamond itself in the night.

Rose's quick tug on his tie brought him crashing back to reality. The line of first years had stopped, and McGonagall had turned around to face them again. Beside her stood a stool, upon which sat a patched up, dirty old hat—the Sorting Hat. Scorpius felt his throat constrict and his stomach boil at the sight of it, remembering what Rose had said about Ravenclaw. _Please, don't make me let my father down._

"When I call your name," McGonagall was saying. "I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your Houses, which you will remain in for the entirety of your schooling here."

As she unrolled the parchment with their names on it, Rose's hand snaked out to grip Scorpius's wrist. He doubted she realized she did it, being as focused as she was on what McGonagall was doing, but it made him feel a little bit better, all the same.

The first name: "Auburn Creevy." A tiny, mousy girl went and sat on the stool, and was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff. Once the Hufflepuff table's wild cheering died out, the next name was called.

"Braxton Zabini." Scorpius wrinkled his nose as a tall, coffee-skinned boy swaggered out of the crowd. Scorpius had met Braxton over the summer—his father was an old school friend of his parents—and the boy had to be the biggest, most arrogant prat in existence. So it came as no surprise at all to Scorpius that the Hat immediately sorted him into Slytherin.

As Braxton hopped off the stool, he caught Scorpius's eye and winked lazily—an ambiguous gesture that, with Braxton, could be interpreted as a haughty challenge or simply a hello. As he took his seat, McGonagall called another name.

"Jordan Parkinson." A pale girl with greasy dark brown hair and an ugly expression on her face that was caught somewhere between a smirk and a scowl, sat on the stool. Instant Slytherin, again…

Three Ravenclaws, another Hufflepuff, and another Slytherin later, and…

"Rose Weasley." Rose jumped at the sound of her name, as if someone had poured ice water down her back. Throwing Albus and Scorpius a now nervous glance, Rose took her turn on the stool. When McGonagall placed the Hat on her head, her eyes were screwed tightly shut.

The verdict came at once: "Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table went mad, chanting Rose's name over and over. When she rushed over to the table, beaming, an older boy who looked a little like Albus gave her a big hug.

Next name: "Albus Potter."

When the name 'Potter' was uttered, the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables cheered, rattling their tables and stomping their feet. Albus blushed scarlet, and seemed frozen to the spot. Scorpius gave him a quick nudge.

"Go on, Al," he murmured encouragingly. Albus seemed to unfreeze; he walked stiffly to the stool. The Hat seemed to swallow his small, dark skull whole…but it was only there for a brief second before it screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!" Albus looked relieved enough to faint as he rushed to go sit with his cousin, enduring backslaps and cheers from his fellows. Scorpius felt a slight pang of sadness as he looked away. He wouldn't see his new friends much once he was sorted into Slytherin, if at all…

"Scorpius Malfoy." Instant silence when McGonagall shouted his name—a silence so complete, nobody, including Scorpius, seemed to be breathing. The burning weigh of over a hundred stares settled on his back. He could sense whispers, though none of them were anywhere near enough for him to hear the words. His knees felt like they had turned to jelly, but he still managed to walk up and sit on the stool…

Facing the sea of suddenly openly hostile stares was the worst part. He shut his eyes tight, feeling an uncomfortable warmth rise up and sting his cheeks. McGonagall dropped the Hat on his head, and he was grateful for the cool weight…

_Hello, little scorpion, _a smooth voice said, inside his head. His parents had told him the Hat could talk, but it was still a shock, nonetheless. _Um. Hello?_

But the Hat ignored him. _Interesting…_and then it was roaring its verdict for the whole school to hear: "_Gryffindor!_"

No cheers from any table followed the announcement, probably because no one had processed it yet. But no one in the entire room was as shocked or as devastated as Scorpius.

_No! Surely you mean Slytherin! _He howled inside his head, tears stinging behind his closed eyelids.

_No, _the Hat replied firmly, but not unkindly.

_B-but I'm…I'm…_

_Names mean nothing, _the Hat interrupted. _It is what is in here, inside your head, that counts. You may not believe me now when I say this, but even a little scorpion of bad faith has courage; scorpions, after all, have been known to sting themselves to death rather than be caught by an enemy._

That last bit made Scorpius's blood run cold, but before he could respond, McGonagall snatched the Hat off his head, and the seconds-long conversation was over. He got up shakily. There were still no cheers for him; the Hall was embarrassingly silent, shocked stares following him from behind, stares filled with the distrust and suspicion Scorpius still didn't understand following him from the front, from his new House's table.

He sat on the end, well away from those stares. He saw Albus and Rose try to come to him, only to be stopped by their fellow Gryffindors. Rose sent him an apologetic look; he just pushed his plate aside—despite his gurgling stomach—and put his head down on his arms miserably, wishing he could just sink through the glittering floor and burn up in the Earth's core.

The Sorting continued; each new Gryffindor was cheered twice as madly, as if to make up for Scorpius. When it was over, dinner appeared, much to the others' delight. It smelled wonderful, but the mere thought of lifting his head or taking a bite was just too repulsing, no matter how delicious it smelled…

Scorpius didn't move until the students were finally dismissed, and the prefects of their respective Houses were calling for their first years to follow them. Scorpius followed at a wary distance, but everyone seemed to have forgotten about him.

The Gryffindor prefect—a tall, dirty blond boy—led them to their common room; Scorpius couldn't find it in himself to be amazed at the moving staircases, nor the talking portrait of a rather large woman in a too tight, frilly pink dress…

He did pay attention, however, when she asked, "Password?"

"Philgilus Wigglus." The prefect said firmly, and the portrait opened.

"Boys' dormitories on the right, girls' on the left," the prefect announced. "Your things have already been brought up."

Scorpius was the first one up. He burrowed under the deliciously soft sheets, not bothering to change into his pajamas, barely even pausing to take off his shoes. Thankfully, oblivion took him within minutes, sparing him hours of miserable tossing and turning. His last thought, before he fell asleep, was _Father is going to kill me._

**A/N: Awww, poor Scorpius! …Okay, I know that that bit about scorpions is a myth, but I just couldn't resist putting it in. There's more of a point to it than just being there for kicks, though, I promise! (For those of you reading Patience is a Virtue, I haven't abandoned it. It'll be updated as soon as I finish and type up the next chapter.) Liked? Hated? Opinions are appreciated =).**


	2. Making Enemies

**A/N: Here's the second chapter. Sorry it took so long. Got distracted with another story. Hope this makes up for it =)**.

Scorpius had a wonderful dream. He couldn't remember what it was, but he could feel himself smiling as he opened his eyes. Smiling, that is, until he saw the scarlet hangings above his bed.

Scarlet, not green.

It all came crashing back. The unwelcoming stares, the humiliation…Tears stung his eyes, threatening to fall. _This was a mistake_. It had to be a mistake, or some cruel joke a bored, dusty old magical hat had thought would be funny to play on him. He had to talk to McGonagall. She could fix this.

His stomach gurgled loudly in protest, scolding him for his decision not to touch the wonderful feast of the night before. _Breakfast first, then_. He sighed, resigned.

He dressed quickly. He was up early, as usual; the majority of his dorm mates were still snoring away in their beds. Good. That meant less of those hating, suspicious stares.

The common room, too, was empty. Scorpius felt himself relax, only to feel himself tense up again when he reached the Great Hall a few minutes later. The Gryffindor table was the fullest of the four tables, relegating him to the very end of the table, just like the night before. No one sat anywhere near him; it was if he didn't exist. Scorpius ate miserably, hardly tasting the food.

When McGonagall left the Headmistress's seat at the teachers' table, he immediately got up to follow. He felt the brush of a wingtip on his cheek and a familiar weight on his shoulder as he hurried after his Head of House. Whatever Darius had, however, could wait.

"Professor! Professor McGonagall!" he panted. The formidable woman suddenly stopped, sweeping around to look at him. Scorpius drew up fast, stopped a dozen steps away by her stern stare. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"There's been a mistake." He tried to make his voice firm and commanding, like his father's, but he failed, instead sounding like exactly what he was-a miserable, mewling child.

When her eyebrows rose slightly, he plowed on. "I don't belong in your House, ma'am. The Sorting Hat has made a mistake."

Was it his imagination, or did that stern look soften ever so slightly? "I assure, Mr. Malfoy, there has been no mistake. If the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor, then Gryffindor is where you belong."

As she turned to sweep away, he forgot his fear of the stern woman's gaze and hurried right up to her side. "But my entire family has been in Slytherin-"

McGonagall glanced at him, a slight smile on her face. "Some traditions are meant to be broken, Mr. Malfoy. Now I suggest you get to class."

_Class…? _Darius gave a muffled hoot, his taloned feet digging into his shoulder. The owl had a piece of paper in his beak-Scorpius's class schedule. As he automatically reached for it, he flinched at the sharp pop of McGonagall Apparating-the firmest, most final no she could have ever given to him.

Miserably, Scorpius took his schedule with one hand, letting Darius hop on to the wrist of his other arm. Scorpius looked at his owl-his best friend for most of his life, and who was possibly his _only _friend in the world now. In a sudden stab of dark, wry humor, he asked the bird, "Mind if I take a flying leap off the Astronomy Tower?"

Darius ruffled his golden brown feathers, giving Scorpius a reproachful, 'how _dare_ you' look. He made a face back. "Oh don't look at me like that. Mother and Father would take care of you if I went splat. Most likely."

Darius nipped his finger in reply. "Ow!" He threw the bird up into the air with his arm. "Go on, you silly bird. You can't come to class with me here, anyway." Darius hooted, swooping back toward the Great Hall. As for Scorpius, he headed back to the dormitories to fetch his Charms book.

**…...**

In Charms class, Scorpius was one of the last to arrive, despite his earlier start. His father had explained the moving staircases over the summer, but he had gotten lost all the same. He slunk to an empty seat in the very back, trying to ignore the heated stares.

He had just sat down, and Professor Flitwick had just introduced himself to the class, when the door banged open. A very flushed Albus hurried in, book in hand and bag sliding off his shoulder.

"Mr. Potter," the tiny man said, the amusement in his tone outweighing his attempt at scolding. "Be a little more swift on your feet next time, yes?"

"Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor," Albus huffed. A boy sitting behind Rose and another girl waved for Albus to come sit with him, but right there, in front of the eyes of half the classroom, Albus defiantly turned his back on him and deliberately sat next to Scorpius.

As the other boy's face turned from annoyed impatience to shock, Albus said loudly, "Hello Scorpius."

Scorpius felt his guts twist as the rest of the class focused on him, the heated, suspicious stares coming back in full force. He might not know yet why they hated him, but he knew that Albus was painting the first lines of a target on his back with this little show. And though he knew, too, that this was all done under Albus's volition, and therefore any consequences were his own fault, Scorpius felt a pang of guilt anyway.

"You don't have to do this," Scorpius said softly as Flitwick turned to the blackboard, charming a piece of chalk to write on it.

Albus ignored that. "You wouldn't happen to have some extra parchment? I forgot mine." Scorpius sighed softly, passing some over without further comment.

As Flitwick went on about the uses of charms, Scorpius (who had heard most of this before when his father tutored him over the summer) put his head down on his arms, watching the little man talk animatedly.

He didn't realize he was starting to doze until Flitwick suddenly said a spell loudly, and something soft brushed his cheek. He sat up, glancing at Albus questioningly.

"Levitating spell," he explained with a small smile.

Oh. Was that all? It was a simple spell, one of the first ones his father had made him master-without actually casting it, of course.

His hand went through the motions with his wand absently. "_Wingardium Leviosa._" The feather-the soft thing that brushed his cheek-rose steadily, and hovered patiently above his head. It marked him, as it were, as only one other feather made it that high into the air. He wasn't at all surprised to find that it was Rose's. She caught his eye and grinned, nodding in approval. He glanced pointedly up at her feather and clapped silently. She beamed at the wordless praise.

When they broke eye contact, Scorpius found himself smiling. Perhaps he wasn't so friendless after all.

**…...**

Scorpius managed to get through the rest of the morning relatively unscathed. He dreaded lunch, though, expecting it to be twice as terrible as breakfast.

To his relief, most everyone seemed to be more preoccupied with the upcoming start of Quidditch tryouts and practices than with him. He sat heavily at the end of the Gryffindor table.

He'd just started, when somebody flopped into the seat right next to him.

"Hello Scorpius," Albus said brightly. As Scorpius raised his pale brows in surprise, Rose sat directly in front of him.

"Hi guys," she said, a little too cheerfully. Scorpius wasn't stupid-he knew a pity party when he saw one. He sighed quietly.

"I appreciate this, I really do, but I'd prefer it if you sat with me because you wanted to, not because you feel sorry for me."

The bright facades dropped instantly. In another fit of wry, dark humor, Scorpius added, "But before you run away, would one of you please explain why I'm the most notorious person in Hogwarts on my first full day here?"

Albus and Rose literally froze, both staring at him with wide eyes. "You really don't know?" Albus asked. Scorpius slowly shook his head, watching them both with steady gray eyes.

"Scorpius." Rose reached out, touching his hand on the table with the air of someone about to deliver some horrible news. "Your father was a Death Eater in the War nineteen years ago. His-your whole family was, all of the Malfoys. It was…horrible, that War, and the memory of it has been kept alive, especially by those who lost family."

Scorpius nodded. Now that it was out in the open, he'd realized he'd always known, really. He'd seen his father's Mark when he was six, and when he asked what it was, his father's face had darkened, and he quickly changed the subject. He'd known, from overhearing the adults talk, that his father had been in 'the War', a term he didn't truly understand until much later. It made him curious, but whenever he asked about it or the Mark as he grew older, his father would look away, as if ashamed, and his mother would quietly tell him to finish his supper.

That was the real moment when he realized the very thing his parents had been trying so hard to shield him from in keeping him home and tutoring him themselves: his father had been a part of something truly terrible all those years ago. He'd refused to believe in that, though, until now, until he was faced with Rose and Albus's sad faces.

Knowing all that, it wasn't hard to accept the reason for the hard stares. "So they hate me because I'm Draco Malfoy's son."

Rose's hand squeezed his. "No, Scorpius, they don't hate _you_-"

"-just my name?" he finished for her wryly.

Both of them flinched. "And that you look exactly like your father," Albus allowed. No gloss, no sugar coating, like his cousin. Scorpius flinched slightly, but found that he appreciated the blunt honesty more than the honey coating.

"But," Albus added suddenly, eyes lighting up. "That's fixable."

Scorpius stared at him. "Fixable _how_?"

He looked to Rose. "Rose?"

The girl looked confused for a minute, but then her face lit up too. "Of course! A new look!"

"A new _what_?"

"Look." She grinned mischievously. "And I know just the thing. Come on!" Then all Scorpius could do was look at Albus helplessly as she dragged him off by the hand.

A few minutes later, and Scorpius was sitting in a chair in the Gryffindor boys' dorm. After magically rinsing his hair of the gel, Rose attacked his now wet locks with a pair of scissors. He squirmed, watching pieces of his precious hair fall away…

"Stop wiggling!" she scolded. "This isn't killing you."

"It might be," Scorpius sniped back. "Al, tell me what she's doing back there. I can't see."

But Albus, who was rearranging Scorpius's clothes on his bed, merely grinned at him. "Don't worry, Scorpius. You're going to love it."

Scorpius pouted, but kept his mouth shut, resigning himself to his fate.

"Done!" Rose crowed, a few minutes later. Scorpius tried not to notice the rather large mound of silver-blonde hair at his feet, nor the excessive amount of air on the back of his neck as Rose fetched a mirror.

"Ta da!" She showed him the mirror. He took it, looking into it dubiously…

He gaped. _Wow_. His hair was shorter than before, but that wasn't as bad a thing as he'd thought. It was about an inch in length all over his head, layered a little and brushed forward, giving him spiky bangs that hung close to his eyebrows. This new look softened the sharp cheekbones he'd inherited from his father, and the effect of that was strange-it was like he was looking at a whole different person.

"Rose, how…?"

"Aunt Fleur taught me," She grinned at him. "You like it, don't you? Admit it."

He couldn't help his own smile at her affectionate ribbing. "It will take getting used to, but yeah, Rose. I like it. Thank you."

She gave him a big hug. "You're welcome."

His new look finished, Scorpius and his new friends hurried off to their next class.

**…...**

The new haircut did wonders. There were more surprised stares than angry stares afterwards, and as the week wore on, almost all seemed to lose interest in him. His life was finally normal…until that Monday.

As he was munching on his breakfast, putting the final touches on a Potions essay due that afternoon, someone plopped into the seat in front of him. "Hullo Scorpius."

Scorpius stilled. It was still too early for either Rose or Albus to join him yet. He looked up, to see a boy in scarlet Quidditch robes lounging in front of him. The boy was older-about third year-with tousled dark auburn hair and friendly chocolate brown eyes. He looked familiar, but Scorpius was sure he'd never met him before.

"Hello," he said cautiously. "You are…?"

The boy grinned at him. "I'm James Potter, Al's brother and the youngest Chaser for Gryffindor. Al's told me a lot about you." The friendly gaze sharpened. "You're friends, _right_?"

Scorpius smiled a little, too used to such behavior by now to be offended or otherwise disturbed. Besides, James was just being a good big brother. Scorpius would do no less.

"Yes," Scorpius answered pleasantly, meeting the older boy's gaze steadily. They stared at each other like that for half a heartbeat-then that big friendly grin was back. "Pleased to meet you."

Scorpius smiled back, getting the distinct impression that James was the sort who preferred to make friends of strangers, rather than enemies. And he was good at it-James proved to be just as immediately likable as his shyer younger brother, and just as bluntly honest.

The new friends chattered on about Quidditch-both being almost equally obsessed with the sport-until Albus and Rose joined them.

"Wow, James you're up early," Rose said, sitting beside him as Albus plopped onto the bench beside Scorpius.

James made a face. "Early Quidditch practice. Laina's trying to kill us already, and the school year's barely started…"

"I heard that." A pretty fourth year Spanish girl said coolly from further down the table, flicking her long black hair over her shoulder.

James fluttered his eyelashes at her. "Heard what, Lainie?"

Laina pursed her lips, not bothering to dignify that with a response as the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team giggled at the pet name. The giggling stopped, however, as the morning post arrived.

Scorpius sighed as Darius, bearing a large green and silver package, soared in. The owl expertly dropped it into his master's lap and landed on his shoulder.

Albus eyed the package curiously over his toast. "Who's that from?"

"My mother," Scorpius replied, feeding Darius his favorite treat-bacon dipped in a bit of syrup. He really was a spoiled bird-much like his owner.

Rose eyed the color of the package, her quick eyes not missing a thing. "You haven't told them yet, have you?"

Scorpius sighed, slitting open the package with his wand. "No."

"They're going to find out sooner or later," Albus put in, with his usual bluntness.

James cocked his head curiously-reminding Scorpius strongly of a reddish-brown Labrador. "Find out about what?"

"That I'm in Gryffindor, rather than the traditional Slytherin," Scorpius answered, pulling off the package's lid. Treacle fudge-his own favorite treat. He felt a stab of guilt. "Treacle, anyone?"

James and Albus happily accepted some, but Rose just looked at him with steady eyes, firm but not unkind.

"They're your parents, Scorpius. They'll love and support you no matter what House you're in."

"She's right, mate," James chimed in, around a big, quickly melting bite of fudge. "And now you all should go to class. It doesn't do to be late." He looked pointedly at his younger brother as the three shuffled up to leave.

**…...**

Charms and Transfiguration went by smoothly-with Rose and Albus to sit by and fool around with, Scorpius hardly felt what little stares there were anymore. But Care of Magical Creatures…That turned out to be a different story entirely.

Scorpius arrived late-he'd forgotten his book in the common room, and he had to rush from Transfiguration to get it. The second he arrived, he could practically smell trouble.

The class was with the Slytherins, and the teacher was no where in sight. They seemed to be behaving themselves-except two, whom Scorpius recognized immediately. He groaned quietly to himself. Braxton Zabini and Jordan Parkinson.

Braxton was circling Albus and Rose in a decidedly predatory fashion, while Jordan watched with an ugly smirk on her face.

"So where is little Scorpius?" Braxton asked silkily as a resigned Scorpius approached.

"Looking for me, Braxton?" he asked. Dark eyes flickered up, and the Slytherin's smile widened.

"Why yes." he said pleasantly, stopping his circling to come stand before the slightly smaller Scorpius.

Scorpius raised his pale brows, attempting to channel his father as effortlessly as Braxton was channeling his. "I would appreciate it if you didn't harass my friends in the process."

Braxton snorted, glancing back at a strained looking Albus and Rose. "_Friends_?" He leaned closer to Scorpius, as if to tell him a secret. "Does your esteemed father know you're associating with such…undesirables?"

Scorpius jerked his head away, glaring. "Don't talk about them like that, Braxton."

Braxton pouted. "I'm only telling your innocent self the truth about the company you've chosen." He tossed another careless, disdainful look at them, eying Rose in particular. "The daughter of a Mudblood, the son of blood traitors-"

Scorpius punched him in the face.

Braxton's ridiculously pointy nose instantly gave way, and in that same second, Scorpius felt a sharp pain in his own fist. He jerked his hand back with a yelp as Braxton staggered away from him, clutching at his now freely bleeding nose.

"Jordan!" he whined, and Jordan was instantly there, scowling and pointing her wand at Scorpius. Rose, Albus and, to Scorpius's surprise, most of the Gryffindors in the class, were there in the same instant for him, without him having to ask. He felt a warm glow fill him up as he cradled his injured hand to his chest.

That warm glow instantly vanished as their teacher-a very irate Hagrid-stormed into view. He grabbed Scorpius by the collar, hoisting him away from Jordan and the tearful Braxton. Scorpius's feet dangled, only his toes keeping contact with the ground-but just barely.

"No fightin'!" the half-giant bellowed at the poised-to-attack Gryffindors, and even Jordan scrambled back from him, pulling Braxton with her.

Hagrid turned to the blonde boy dangling from his fist. "What's the meanin' of this, Malfoy?" he growled, and that was far worse than the bellowing.

Scorpius trembled, but bit his lip, lifting his chin proudly. He kept his mouth shut, for he was smart enough to recognize that no matter what he said, it wouldn't make any difference. In Hagrid's mind, he was the bad guy, and he always would be, because he was a Malfoy, and Hagrid had made his feelings about that quite clear when they got off the train over a week ago.

Lucky for him, he had two nonMalfoy Gryffindor friends who were far more persuasive.

"Hagrid," Rose said quickly, her voice trembling slightly. "Put him down. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Yeah," Albus added. "Zabini provoked him by saying something about Rose and me." Jordan scoffed at that but said nothing. None of the other Slytherins did, either, even when the other Gryffindors made noises of agreement.

"Right." Hagrid put Scorpius back down carefully, the expression on his shaggy face unreadable. "Get ter the Hospital Wing then, both of yeh. And no more fightin'!"

"Yes, sir." Jordan dragged Braxton away, glaring over her shoulder at Scorpius. He followed shakily after, his steps strengthening as he felt his friends fall into step on either side of him.

Albus beamed at him. "That was brilliant, Scorpius. Thanks. For sticking up for us."

Scorpius grinned, nudging him playfully, careful not to jar his injured hand. "That's what friends are for, Al."

**A/N: Awww! Again, sorry for the slow update. Will get the third chapter up ASAP! **

**So, what did you think? =)**


	3. Making a Fist

**A/n: yay third chapter! Enjoy =)**

Against his will, Scorpius flinched as Madame Pomfrey spread out the fingers of his injured hand. The nurse clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Broken, just as I thought. If I had a sickle for every injury caused by ridiculous schoolboy rivalries..." She bustled off, leaving the remainder of her sentence unsaid.

"She'd be rich," Rose deadpanned.

As Al snorted, and Scorpius bit his lip, trying and failing to keep a straight face, James poked his head in. "Hullo." He raised an eyebrow at Scorpius's hand, which he still held palm down at chest level, as Pomfrey had left it.

"Scorpius broke it punching Zabini in the face for us," Albus explained to his brother brightly.

James's eyebrows rose even higher, almost disappearing into his shaggy auburn hairline. "So it was you who got Hagrid in such an uproar." He plopped into a chair by Rose, giving Scorpius a slightly goofy, definitely approving grin. "Well done."

Scorpius tried to accept the praise with a graceful tilt of his head, like a proper Malfoy, but the attempt was ruined by his cheeks flushing a bright pink at said praise.

The older boy didn't seem to notice; he was looking at Scorpius's uninjured hand curiously. "Make a fist, Scorpius," he said suddenly. Blinking at him curiously, the boy nevertheless did as he was told.

James tutted. "Small wonder you hurt yourself. You're doing it wrong." He adjusted Scorpius's fist so that his thumb was tucked underneath his fingers, rather than curled in with them. He sat back, looking at his handiwork with as much approval as an architect with his finished project.

"That, dear Scorpius, is how you make a fist-"

"Mr. Potter!" Both Albus and James looked up, twin looks of pure innocence on their faces. "Yes ma'am?"

Madame Pomfrey let out a loud huffing breath in exasperation, rubbing her temple a little. " Mr. _James _Potter. Mr. Malfoy has placed himself in enough trouble today with his fist without you showing him how to do it '_properly_'. Now since there is nothing you need in the way of treatment: _out_."

"Yes ma'am," James said, his head slightly lowered-the very picture of contrition. As he got up to leave, though, he snuck a mischievous wink at them all from under his fringe. Scorpius bit the inside of his cheek a little to suppress a smile.

As the door to the Hospital Wing closed softly behind him, Madame Pomfrey pressed a small glass of a murky-looking, grayish potion into his uninjured hand.

Scorpius raised the glass, eying the contents dubiously, wrinkling his pale nose. _One...Two...Three. _He reluctantly knocked back the potion like his grandmother Narcissa with a shot of Firewhiskey. His whole body shuddered, and it was all he could do not to throw the vile-tasting draught back up.

Albus and Rose gave him encouraging smiles as Pomfrey rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "Good boy." She turned to include Albus and Rose as well. "It will take some time for the potion to take full effect and repair the damage. In the mean time, run along to class, you two. Mr. Malfoy will be along after the potion finishes its work."

"Okay." Albus gave him another kind smile and Rose squeezed his hand, before they reluctantly followed after James. Scorpius made a face as they left-the knuckles of his injured were starting to tingle uncomfortably.

Madame Pomfrey noticed, and her face softened. "Try to sleep; it's less bothersome that way," she told him kindly before bustling off once more.

**...**

Somehow, Scorpius must have been able to sleep, because next he knew, he was being shaken lightly awake by Madame Pomfrey. As he slowly sat up, she took his injured hand and pressed gently on the knuckles, carefully flexing each finger. The potion must have worked, because it didn't hurt in the least.

She nodded to herself. "All done. You may go, Mr. Malfoy. And no more fistfights!" She added sternly as he slid off the bed.

"Yes, ma'am."

It was getting dark outside the windows; he'd missed the rest of his afternoon classes. Not that he was sorry about that-History of Magic was dull at best, Defense Against the Dark Arts a close second (honestly, Professor Kimble could take the fun out of practicing hexes as well as Binns could take the excitement out of bloody rebellions) and he never liked the way the greasy-mannered Potions master, Slughorn, looked at him-all calculating behind a oily smile, as if he were a potential pawn in some obscure chess game Slughorn was constantly playing.

It was about dinnertime, in fact. Scorpius's stomach gurgled eagerly, and he picked up his pace. He rounded the corner to the Great Hall's corridor at a (rather undignified, as his father would call it) half-run.

When he reached it, dinner was already in full swing; to his relief, no one paid any attention as he entered-well except Rose, Albus, and James, that is.

Rose and Albus beamed at him as he approached. "Welcome back, sleepyhead," James piped up with his customary goofy grin. Scorpius grinned back, plopping himself in the seat beside Albus that the other boy had saved for him, across from Rose, and helped himself to the food (roast duck and potatoes, his favorite.).

As Scorpius ate, James and Albus resumed their earlier conversation-an argument about whose favorite professional Quidditch team was better. Rose rolled her eyes at the brothers' good-natured back and forth banter and deliberately turned to talk to Jenna Lore-another first year-instead. Scorpius smiled into his food, suddenly filled with affection for his friends.

Near the end of dinner, he was so focused on his bread pudding that he didn't know Braxton and Jordan were walking by until the warm chatter in his ears suddenly hushed. He twisted around to see both of them glaring at him.

"Hey guys," James said loudly. "Is it just me, or is Zabini's nose just a _touch _off center today?"

Braxton's eyes narrowed as Scorpius snorted. Scorpius smiled back at him sweetly, feigning innocence. To his surprise, Braxton smiled back, only his smile was pure, bratty evil. He leaned close, grabbing Scorpius's tie and jerking him forward, ignoring how Scorpius's friends jumped up defensively.

"Laugh it up while you can, dear Scorpius," he growled into Scorpius's ear. "Your father will be hearing about this. _All _of it."

Scorpius felt the blood physically drain from his face as Braxton let go of his tie and stepped back. "Y-You _wouldn't_," he stammered, staring at Braxton's smirking face in horror.

"Oh, I would. In fact, I already have," the Slytherin purred back. He raised his hand, curling his fingers in a small wave. " _Ciao, scorpione_."

As Braxton strutted off with a smirking Jordan, Scorpius turned back to Rose and Albus, who were both watching him with identical looks of concern, whiter-faced than usual.

Rose broke the silence first. "What did he say to you, Scorpius?"

Scorpius stared down at the remains of his bread pudding, feeling suddenly too ill to finish it. "He is going to tell my father everything." He sucked in a deep breath, rubbing his face, willing the tears away. _I'm a dead man_, he thought grimly.

He didn't realize Rose had gotten up until her spindly arms were around him. "It'll be okay, Scorpius," she told him, in a gentle, motherly voice Scorpius was beginning to hear often-usually directed at him, like now. A watery smile worked its way onto his face as Albus boldly added, "Yeah, Scorp. And you've still got us, no matter what your dad says." James, his mouth full of a pumpkin pasty, cheerfully grunted his agreement.

**...**

The next morning, in Charms, Scorpius was on edge, fidgeting nervously on his seat, his Malfoy composure-which he'd never been all that good at faking, anyway-in shambles. It was extremely hard to concentrate when he was expecting a livid paternal relation to come bursting in at any second and disown him...

But his father never appeared. Not that day, nor the next, nor even the next. Braxton, however, continued to be insufferable, gloating and smirking knowingly at him whenever he got the chance. But after a few Father-free days became a Father-free week, Scorpius began to relax.

After a Father-free two weeks, Braxton began to visibly deflate, and James began to taunt him in retaliation on Scorpius's behalf, bolstering the pale boy's confidence even more-and earning Rose and Albus's disapproval, though it was largely ignored.

But then, nearly a month later...

"Scorpius Malfoy." Scorpius looked up from where he was about to attempt to disarm Rose in Defense Against the Dark Arts (he didn't really think he could succeed-she was the fastest caster in their whole year when she wanted to be). The speaker was a very tight-lipped Professor McGonagall.

He tucked his wand back into his robe pocket, catching Rose's eye, then Albus, who was across the room, partnered with a boy called Thomas-the same boy who'd gestured to him in Charms that first day. Nodding to both like a condemned man headed for the gallows, Scorpius turned and followed his Headmistress and Head of House out of the room.

He managed to walk with his head held high, back straight and proud, like a proper Malfoy, though his knees shook and his heart was pounding so hard it threatened to beat right out of his chest. McGonagall was silent in front of him as she led him along-she didn't even look at him.

They didn't stop until they came to a giant eagle statue standing with its wings spread in an alcove. "Albus Dumbledore," she murmured to it, almost fondly. At once the thing began to move, spiraling upwards, revealing a set of marble steps. McGonagall finally glanced at him as she stepped onto them, motioning for him to follow. He swallowed tightly and followed her, fighting to control his trembling with every step he took.

He tried desperately to convince himself that this had nothing to do with his father, but he couldn't think of anything he might have done to deserve a visit with the Headmistress-_mostly due to having a pair of almost obsessive rule-followers for friends_, he thought with the barest flicker of a smile.

His heart plummeted to lurk, terrified, somewhere near his navel (even though he should have been expecting it) the second he followed Professor McGonagall into her office. His father stood up from a spindly-looking chair in front of the Headmistress's desk, as tall and imposing as ever-but his stormy glare was mercifully not directed at Scorpius-yet.

"As I was saying, Professor," he growled, and Scorpius shivered at the ice in his tone, feeling very small and cold. "This is an outrage. My son does not belong in your House. I suggest you rectify the Sorting Hat's mistake _immediately_."

Professor McGonagall, to Scorpius's shock, wasn't the least bit intimidated. There was even the slightest suggestion of a smile hanging about her thin mouth as she replied, "The Sorting Hat may be ancient-older even than this school-but I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, it does not make mistakes. It does, however, allow for the power of choice." Even though his gaze was directed at his feet, his chin almost tucked into his collarbone, Scorpius could feel McGonagall's gaze fall on him once again.

Draco rounded on his son at once. "Scorpius," Scorpius had to fight not to flinch and shiver again at the cold, hard, flat tone in his father's voice. "Y-Yes, sir?"

"Look at me." He wasn't yelling. He didn't have to raise his voice for Scorpius to know that he was very angry with him. He took a deep breath, and carefully raised his head. Gray met gray, one deceptively calm, the other absolutely terrified behind a thin mask.

"Did you choose Gryffindor?"

Scorpius shook his head vigorously. "No, sir."

Draco turned to McGonagall in grim triumph. "There, you see? He didn't choose it, so it must be a mistake. Resort him."

Panic flared in Scorpius's heart, the same fluttery panic he'd felt as the prospect of not being Sorted into Slytherin, at the thought of disappointing his father, but he wasn't thinking of that now. He was thinking about Albus, snubbing everyone and sitting with him instead; of Rose, nodding in warm approval at his feather; of James, showing him how to make a proper fist; and even of the Gryffindors of his year, who'd jumped to his defense without a second thought after he punched Braxton in the nose. He had friends now, real companionship he had for the sake of it, rather than to bring honor back to his torn family. Friends he didn't have to hide from. He couldn't leave that, not for anything. He _wouldn't_.

He lifted his gaze back to his father as McGonagall sighed. He took another deep breath, filling his chest, holding his head high. His eyes unconsciously flickered to the Sorting Hat, sitting innocently on a shelf above McGonagall's desk. _Even a little scorpion of bad faith has courage._

"Father." His voice, though still quiet, was firm and unwavering, drawing from a hidden reserve of steady nerve somewhere deep, deep inside of him, stirred to life by the memory of the Hat's words.

His father looked at him, surprise flashing across his face. Before this strange new reserve of boldness could fail him, Scorpius blurted, "I don't _want _to be in Slytherin anymore. I have friends now. I'm-I'm _happy _where I am. I don't _want _to be resorted." The last part was said with the greatest force and resolve the young Malfoy could manage as he stiffened his spine, preparing for the worst as he lifted his chin proudly.

His father's surprise turned into shock for a brief second before settling back into a cold, disapproving mask once more. "Yes. I heard about that as well." The mask seemed to crack a bit as he rubbed his temple, his other hand flexing as his thumb rubbed over his wedding band. A new resolve seemed to fill him, and he looked up, looking his son straight in the eye. "I object strongly to this, Scorpius, but as you are eleven, you are old enough to begin making your own choices-mistakes though they may be. If this is your choice...then so be it."

Scorpius's eyes widened, almost comically, but he didn't care. He'd expected more of a fight from his father-it was a family tradition, after all, to be in Slytherin, and he had made no secret of his extreme dislike of the Potters and Weasleys throughout Scorpius's childhood-but then his heart swelled as the gravity of his father's concession settled in. Sheer giddy joy propelled the small boy forward; he threw his arms around his father's middle, burying his face into his chest.

Draco patted the top of his son's head awkwardly, then froze. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, _what in Merlin's name did you do to your hair_?"

**A/N: Wow this one's short...oh well =). More to come as soon as I type it up.**


	4. Threats

**A/N: Another chapter! Sorry. Its been entirely too long, and its a shorty to boot, but there's more to come soon, I promise!**

After getting an earful about Rose's changes to his hair ("What in Merlin's name possessed you to-to _butcher _your hair like this?" and Scorpius's personal favorite, "What am I supposed to tell your mother?" said with a look of absolute terror by his father.) Scorpius left the Headmistress's office feeling like the happiest creature on the planet.

He could stay! He wouldn't have to leave his friends. He wouldn't have to share a stupid dorm room with that prat Braxton. Or a common room, for that matter.

Speaking of which...thanks to his father, he had missed the rest of Defense. It was now break hour-a free half hour before dinner and Astronomy. He knew, in a flash of gleeful intuition, exactly where he could find his friends.

They were there, all three of them, in the Gryffindor common room. James sat slouched on the big couch by the fire, still in his Quidditch gear, staring into the flames without really seeing them; Rose sat beside him, concentrating on petting Fred the cat. Albus sat on the floor near her, playing a game of Wizard Chess with a too-enthusiastic Thomas.

Thomas had just checked Albus's king with a triumphant "Ha!" when Scorpius stepped in quietly. It was Thomas who saw him first, his victorious grin dimming at the sight of the young Malfoy.

Albus turned to see what had caused the sudden expression change, his face instantly splitting into a wide grin at the sight of Scorpius. "Scorpius!"

The sound of Albus's voice caught Rose and James's attention-and Fred's too, of course. As the young cat rubbed against his leg in welcome, Scorpius bent to pick him up, making sure to put on his best glum face as he straightened up.

"You can stay! ...Right?" Rose asked, her voice turning anxious and faltering at the sight of Scorpius's expression. Albus's face mirrored her voice-hopeful and anxious. James looked on with wide eyes.

Seeing them all so keen to hear him say yes made Scorpius feel warm all over, and a little guilty for keeping them all in suspense. But he didn't feel so guilty as to resist throwing himself dramatically into an empty armchair. He was his father's son in _some _things, after all.

He heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Yes."

Thomas's face, which had brightened a bit, dimmed again. "'scuse me?"

"I said," Scorpius couldn't hold back the grin that broke out on his face another second. "yes. I can stay!"

James whooped. Albus bounced up and cheered, his chess game completely forgotten. Rose threw her arms around Scorpius, almost squashing poor Fred between them.

Thomas, to Scorpius's utter lack of surprise, was the only one who wasn't at all cheered by the news. His already thin mouth flattened into an even thinner line, and the look he gave Scorpius was...hostile, to put it mildly. Scorpius felt the grin slip further from his face. It seemed Braxton wasn't the only one in his year that he had to worry about...

**...**

As it turned out, Thomas wasn't the only one, period.

It happened, just after double Defense with the Hufflepuffs, nearly a week later. Only Albus was with him; Rose had gone on ahead with Jenna Lore, swearing to save them seats between laughing and giggling about...whatever it was girls laughed and giggled about.

He turned to tell Albus something, but it was forgotten instantly as in the same second, he heard a whispered _reducto_. His bag split open, dumping everything-books, quills, parchment, _ink_-all over the floor.

He bent to pick up the mess, repairing his bag with a quiet _reparo. _Albus stopped to help, but Scorpius waved him off, forcing a grin. "It's nothing, Al. Stupid old thing does this a lot. Go on and catch up with Rose. I'll be right behind you."

Albus, as he had hoped, had not heard the whispered spell, but the other boy was still too smart for his own good. He looked suspiciously at Scorpius's repaired bag for a second-but then he relented, to Scorpius's relief.

"Okay. See you in a bit."

Scorpius had just watched his best friend turn the corner further down the corridor, when they were suddenly on him. Gryffindors, not Slytherins, three of them, all of them older than Scorpius and thankfully unarmed, for the moment. Scorpius kept his own wand in a loose but wary grip at his side.

He noted, with a sinking heart, that he was devastatingly outnumbered, and as Albus would say, 'outgunned'. But if they thought he was just going to stand there and be hexed, should it come down to a fight, they were very, very mistaken.

"Malfoy," growled the burliest of the three, who was by far the scariest looking of the group, though the dark haired boy was barely taller than Scorpius.

Scorpius's grip on his wand tightened a fraction as the elder loomed over him. "Yeah? Who's asking?" He flinched a bit inside his head as his voice, instead of sounding cool and dangerous, cracked and squeaked like a timid mouse.

The burly one snorted, and his friends smiled unpleasantly. "I dunno what you and your Death Eater daddy have planned, but take what happened to your bag as a warning: leave the Potters and Rose alone, or..."

Scorpius swallowed tightly, but couldn't stop his fool mouth from blurting "Or what?"

Now it was the burly boy's turn to smile unpleasantly. "Or we'll find you."

With that, the three boys sauntered away, the burly one in the lead. Scorpius stood firm, clutching the handle of his wand tight, until they were out of sight. Then the small boy deflated, backing up to slump, pale and shaking, against the wall.

He bowed his head, pressing his face into his palms. The handle of his wand pressed into his cheek.

Then he knew.

There was no hiding from this. No going to McGonagall. No staying away from the only real friends he'd ever known. That left only one option-advanced magic. He had to learn how to defend himself properly...and he knew just where to go to do it.

**A/N: Wooh! Getting serious, isn't it? :) I promise I'll have more up ASAP!**


	5. The Wisdom of Ravens

**A/N: And the plot bunny strikes again! You can thank her, patient readers, for the reasonably quick updates. Enjoy!**

It was the next day, after breakfast, before he could get away. It was a Saturday; the first big snowfall of the season had fallen, and he had to (reluctantly) plead unfinished Transfiguration homework to get out of mounting an ambush on Rose and a few other Gryffindor girls with James and Albus.

He had finished all of his homework, Transfiguration included, ages ago, but that was the only plausible excuse Scorpius could think of-and besides, it technically wasn't a lie. Once he found what he was looking for, he would be doing homework. Advanced, self assigned homework, but homework nonetheless.

His father had told him once, when he was a lot younger, about a wonderful little room within Hogwarts on the seventh floor that could be anything the finder wanted it to be. His father had told a story, in fairytale form, about a boy who had found the room. Scorpius couldn't remember what the boy used it for, just that it had something to do with a magical cabinet, but whether the story was real or not, the room was, he knew that for certain. It was the one secret his father had shared with him and him alone.

He had absolute faith in his memory and his father's story; it was just finding that one room inside the huge seventh floor that would be the problem...

He rubbed his temple absently as he hurried down the first corridor he came to on the seventh floor, feeling lost and terribly alone. _Come on, Scorpius. Remember the story. Father told you. What did he say?_

He slowed to a walk, almost without thinking about it, rubbing his temple with the heel of his hand as he thought back...

"_Story!" he cried. When his father sighed, he jumped up to bounce on his bed. "Story, Papa! Story, story, STORY!"_

"_Hush, Scorpius. You'll wake your mother."_

"_Story, please?" Scorpius whispered loudly in response, poking out his lower lip._

"_I suppose. Lie down."_

Scorpius must have done as he was told, because the next thing he could remember was a sideways view of his father's face. He had sat on the bed with Scorpius; Scorpius could remember smelling the sharp smell of peppermint strong in his nose as he snuggled up to his father's warm side. Once Scorpius had stopped squirming, his father had launched into his story...

"_Once upon a time, there was a young boy called Draconis. He...wasn't a very happy boy. His father and mother were in the thrall of a very bad man, who would hurt them if Draconis didn't do something for him."_

_Scorpius stared at his father, instantly enthralled himself. "What did the bad man want him to do, Papa?"_

"_He wanted him to go into Hogwarts, and find a secret room, and to repair the magical cabinet within that would let the bad man and his followers into the castle."_

Scorpius shut his eyes tight, forcing himself to remember through the fog. _Where was the room, Papa?_

To his surprise, his memory-father answered him clearly: "_Seventh floor...in front of a tapestry with a foolish man trying to teach trolls to dance._

Scorpius punched the air in triumph, racing forward again. Inside his head the memory flashed by in a blur too.

After the story, his father had looked at him seriously. _"Do you wish to know a secret, Scorpius?"_

_Scorpius, who had been on the verge of sleep, was instantly awake again. "Yes, Papa!" he chirped eagerly._

"_I found that room that Draconis found, too. If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll tell you how I opened it."_

"_I won't tell, Papa!" _He had mimed sealing his lips with an imaginary wand, like he'd seen the other pureblood children do, on the rare times he saw them.

His father had chuckled, a warm sound Scorpius had heard all too rarely in the years since. _"I walked past it, three times, all the while thinking very, very hard about what I really, really needed. On the third pass, the door to this Room of Requirement was there, waiting."_

_Scorpius looked at his father, eyes wide. "What was in it, Papa?"_

_His father smiled. "Everything a boy could possibly want. Now sleep, Scorpius." As Scorpius obediently closed his eyes, he felt his father kiss his forehead, and walk slowly out of the room..._

Scorpius whipped around a corner, and there it was. Just as his father had said, a tapestry hung in front of a blank space of wall, the faded fabric decorated with a man and his troll 'dancers'.

"Thank you, Father," Taking a deep breath, Scorpius marched past the wall, then spun on his heel and did it again, all the while thinking, _I need a room where I can learn advanced magic...advanced GOOD magic..._He didn't know really why he should make that distinction-Hogwarts was a school that taught good magic; surely there wouldn't be any place here for dark magic, even a secret magical room...

Scorpius shut his eyes tight, blocking out any stray thoughts, particularly ones about dark magic, chanting his need inside his head. _I need a room where I can learn to defend myself with advanced good magic...I need a room where I can learn to defend myself with advanced good magic..._

He made six passes, just to be safe, before he dared to peek at the wall...He blinked, rubbing his eyes and pinching himself to make sure he wasn't imagining it, or dreaming. Yes. There was definitely an ancient, slightly blackened door set in the wall, where there hadn't been one before.

He stared at the slightly ominous-looking door for a long second, summoning all his nerve. He took a deep breath, and as he let it out he stepped forward, pushing open the door...

The room was not what he imagined. He had imagined a training room, filled with training dummies to fling spells at, and a few books with the spells he needed in them. What he saw was a library, with vast shelves made of the same blackened wood as the door. Black streaks covered the floor in place of a carpet, and the air smelled of ash and burnt wood, as if there had been a great fire here not long ago.

The whole place had the deserted, sinister feel of a haunted mausoleum, so it was a perfectly acceptable reaction to Scorpius to jump five feet in the air and scream like a girl when a voice boomed, "So here you are. Back again."

Scorpius backed up, jumping again when his back hit the door. "W-who are you?"

"You should know who I am. You asked for my help. Or my room did, at least."

"I-I don't..."

A sigh. "Come where I can see you properly, boy."

For a moment, Scorpius stood frozen, his heart pounding wildly. Then he stepped forward. One...Two...Three...He dug his wand out of the pocket of his robes, well aware of how little in the way of protection it offered, but taking courage and reassurance from its weight in his hand, anyway. Four...Five...Six...He came to the end of the corridor of books, to find himself in a small nook. A worktable and chair sat in one side of the area; a small dark blue rug, the only thing that seemed to have been untouched by flames, was spread across the floor...

"Hello." Scorpius jumped, spinning around. On the other side of the nook, two hawk like eyes gazed at him, assessing. A woman, her dark hair swept back from her face, framed by...a gilt frame?

The woman clicked her tongue, leaning on the edge of her frame. "No. Not the same one. A son, perhaps? But I digress. You asked my room for help to defend yourself with advanced magic, yes?"

"Yes. Sorry, but who are you?"

The woman smiled, lifting her pointed chin proudly. "I am Rowena Ravenclaw. Or, at the very least, her portrait. My room called me, when you asked for its help. You wish to learn. I and my books have the knowledge." Her dark eyes flickered at a shelf behind Scorpius. "Fetch the red book with white binding, second shelf, three from the end."

Feeling dazed, Scorpius did as he was told. The book in question was slender but strangely heavy, and the worn cover had no title.

"Take it to the worktable, and open it to the first page."

Scorpius did, and stared at the contents. "'_Treatise on the Superior Arte of Conjuration_.'" He flipped the title page, and stared, uncomprehending, at the diagram and tiny, precise handwriting. "Ummm...Professor Ravenclaw...?"

"Hmmm, no. Perhaps that one is a little _too_ advanced for you...try the black one, third row from the bottom, blue binding."

" '_Everfrost's Compendium of Classic Defensive Technique_'."

"Ah, that's the one. Take it to the table, and begin reading."

"But Professor...I need to learn practical spells, fast."

"And you will. All proper learning must first begin with theory. Now read the book, Mr. Malfoy."

Scorpius sighed, resigned, moving back toward the table.

**A/N: ...the plot bunny stole the show again. Sorry that its another shorty. It'll get longer and more interesting soon, I promise!**


	6. It's Personal

The next few weeks passed in a blur of nervous energy for Scorpius. Once again he was expecting to get ambushed at any second, but this time, the majority of his attention was focused elsewhere. In his normal classes, he read far ahead, finishing work far ahead of everyone else. The bulk of his free time, when he couldn't get away to Ravenclaw's library, was spent studying the _Compendium. _When Binns, or Kimble, or one of the other teachers droned on about what he'd already covered, there the _Compendium _would be, in his lap, his wand flicking underneath the table in practice. When they ambushed him, he would be prepared. Oh _yes_, he would be prepared...

"Mr. Malfoy. _Mr. Malfoy_."

A sharp elbow, probably Rose's, jabbed into Scorpius's side, breaking his concentration. He blinked quickly, rubbing his eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy." Scorpius blinked again, his fuzzy eyes and mind finally focusing on Professor Kimble's disapproving stare. "Yes, Professor?"

"Since you obviously don't feel the need to pay attention, perhaps you could share with the class. What are the five ways to tell a doppelganger from an illusion?"

Ah. He'd covered that himself just last night. As he rattled off the ways, the grumpy Defense professor's expression changed from smug to surprise. Scorpius caught Rose and Albus shooting him strange looks, too.

As the lesson went on, Scorpius went back to the _Compendium, _but hardly understood another word. His head was starting to hurt from all the studying, as was his eyes. Perhaps it was time to stop for a while...

He closed the book, and leaned forward, resting his head on his arms. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he must have, for the next thing he knew, that elbow was reacquainting itself with his gut again.

He blinked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Almost everyone else had left the room already, including Kimble. Rose and Albus stood next to him.

As he got up to gather his things, Albus blurted, "All right, Scorpius, what's going on? Tell us."

_Uh oh. _"What do you mean, 'what's going on', Albus?"

"You've hardly talked to anyone in weeks. You keep disappearing for hours on end. You hardly eat at mealtimes. You've always got that weird book with you, and now, just now, in class," Rose paused, biting her lip, bright eyes wide and worried. "We're not set to learn _anything _about doppelgangers or illusions really until after Christmas, at least..."

Scorpius shrugged, forcing a smile. "Been studying, is all. And I got bored and read ahead a bit in the textbook. It's nothing to worry about, Rose, really." And he forced himself to turn around and stroll casually out of the room, pretending not to notice the hurt looks on his best friends' faces.

**...**

"I mean, he'd know, right? His daddy being a _Death Eater_, and all."

Scorpius had supposed it would be only a matter of time before his little display in Defense the other day would make the rounds...or that Thomas would be the first to spout off about it. What he didn't expect, was Albus.

Mild, mousy Albus spun around, in the middle of Care of Magical Creatures, and snarled, "Shut _up _Thomas, for Merlin's sake!"

Thomas and the boy he had been (loudly) speaking to stared at him in surprise. But then Thomas's babyish face morphed into a scowl. "No, Albus. I don't think I will."

As the two stared each other down, Scorpius said, "Al. _Al. _Let it go, all right?" But for once, Albus wasn't listening. And Rose, who had an uncharacteristic scowl on her face, wasn't helping. The cousins stood shoulder to shoulder, on either side and in front of Scorpius. Defending him.

Scorpius loosed a soft sigh, resigned to testing out his new spells to break up a fight, when a voice boomed, "Class."

They and the rest of the class turned, to see Hagrid walking up from the direction of the lake. "This way. We're goin' ter see the merpeople today."

"Um, but Hagrid..._Professor_ Hagrid...it's the middle of November. Isn't that dangerous?" Rose piped up.

"Yeh'll be in boats, Rose. And the lake is calm today. There's nothin' for you lot ter worry about."

Not even Albus and Rose, who knew their teacher the best, seemed reassured by the big man's words, but seeing as he was their teacher, they had no choice but to follow.

He was right, though. The lake was a sheet of liquid glass under an equally calm, if a kind of murky gray, sky. Several boats waited for them on the shore.

"All right, you lot. Two ter a boat. Oh, and leave yer books an' things on the beach. Can't have y'all droppin' things into the merpeople's home, after all."

As Scorpius dumped his bag into the sand, he caught Rose and Albus exchange a secretive glance out of the corner of his eye. Before he could call them on it, though, Albus was trotting over to Hagrid.

"Professor..." The boy sneezed loudly, and when he came out of it, he looked kind of...green, like he had the night of the Sorting. "Professor Hagrid, I'm not feeling very well..."

Hagrid's face softened. "All right, Al. Yeh stay on the beach. The rest o' you lot, in the boats."

"Can I stay with Albus, Hagrid? In case he needs to go to the Hospital Wing?" It wasn't Rose who spoke, but Thomas. Scorpius watched, confused, as he shot Albus and then Rose an apologetic look. It wasn't returned by either, but their expressions did soften a bit.

Hagrid sighed. "All right. But no one else."

Thomas and Albus obediently stayed on the beach, while the others got into the boats. Rose, to Scorpius's surprise, clambered into the boat with him without another glance at her cousin. Surprise gave way to the first prickles of suspicion as he glanced back at Albus. He looked decidedly less green now, as the little boats started off.

"Rose," he said quietly, turning to her. "aren't you worried about Al?"

When Rose looked back at him, it was obvious that she knew he suspected. She looked deadly serious as she whispered back, "I'm more worried about you."

As he opened his mouth to tell her that he was fine, and that there was really no reason to worry, Hagrid clapped his hands. "All right! Here they come!"

Mild ripples disturbed the surface of the lake, and then there they were. Six of them, three females, three males, their pale green skins glistening. Hagrid waved, and the little boats slowly gathered into a little circle around the visitors.

As Hagrid started to talk, Scorpius noticed another ripple, by their boat and near Rose. Then another merperson popped up silently, a young one, close to their own age. He stared at them with wide, algae-colored eyes.

Scorpius nudged Rose. "Rose. Rose, look!"

"What...?" Her eyes went as wide as the merchild's. He floated closer, one webbed hand reaching up out of the water toward Rose. Rose stared back, leaning toward the child and reaching out her own hand...

A thrill of alarm went through Scorpius. "Rose, don't..." He gripped her robes, tugging on them, trying in vain to get her attention. "Rose-"

There was a sudden flurry of movement in the water, and two mermen sprang up, between the boat and the merchild, jostling the tiny craft with their strong tails, making it pitch wildly.

"Rose!" Scorpius yanked hard on the girl's robes, just barely stopping her from pitching headfirst into the icy water. There was a pause, a horrible, forbidding pause, and then the water seemed to _roll _underneath the unbalanced boat. Scorpius heard the splash of the merpeople scattering, vaguely, before the boat tipped...In a sudden moment of clarity, Scorpius let go of Rose. She had a better grip; she would be safe, if Scorpius didn't drag her with him. Then the icy black enveloped him.

His robes twisted around his body; he flailed helplessly, unable to get his steadily numbing arms free to swim...

Just when he thought the black would claim him, two strong, slender hands caught hold of him. Then he was being dragged, whether up or down he honestly couldn't say anymore.

He couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't _breathe_. It was like the entire lake was sitting on his chest, smothering him...Then his head broke the surface of the water. Light and color and _air_, sweet, sweet air, came back to him in a dizzying rush, and he drank it in greedily. Wait, no, too fast, too fast, he was coughing...

The hands on him boosted him up; he was suspended in the cold November air for a moment, and then he was kneeling on the rough boards of a boat, a large hand beating rhythmically on his numbed back.

As he hacked up what felt like half the lake, the colors and light righted themselves, and formed a stark white face, framed by vivid red hair. Sound came rushing back in the same second.

"Scorpius!" Rose sobbed. "Scorpius!"

"R-Rose?" His throat was scratchy and rough from coughing, as was his voice. Feeling was coming back to his skin; he could feel Rose jump forward and hug him. A heavy, rough, but deliciously warm coat was dumped on his shoulders, and a deep voice rumbled, "Keep 'im warm, Rosie. All right, you all! Back to shore!"

The ride back could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes; Scorpius, who was too busy huddling into whatever warmth his shivering limbs could find, honestly didn't know.

When Hagrid's boat touched shore, Scorpius felt the big man scoop him up, as easily as if he weighed no more than a feather. He would have squirmed in embarrassed protest at any other time-honestly, being picked up like a baby in front of his classmates, who already had enough to ridicule him with-but he was feeling too numb and cold at the moment to care.

Hagrid tucked up part of the coat to shield his face, and ran with him. Scorpius could hear and feel the rhythmic pound of the half-giant's boots as he faded in and out, first on ground and then on stone.

Scorpius knew they'd reached the Hospital Wing, when a voice that sounded like Rose gasped, "Madame Pomfrey!"

"Lay him there." Scorpius was placed on a bed. "Pull the coat off." The second the coat was pulled away, Pomfrey's wand swished above him. Scorpius watched in vague fascination as steam rose off his skin as the lake water evaporated. He didn't have much time to marvel, however, before a firm hand tilted his head up and pressed a bottle to his lips. "Drink," Pomfrey urged.

He did. The potion tasted like peppermint...and something even more awful than the potion he took the last time he was here. He coughed again as fire swept through his body, warming up every last cell so fast it left an almost painful tingling in its wake.

Pomfrey helped him sit up, rubbing his back as he coughed a few more times. "Is he going to be okay?" asked another anxious voice. _Albus_.

"Mr. Malfoy, flex your fingers and toes for me, please." He did. Pomfrey nodded to herself. "Yes, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy will be just fine." As Scorpius was engulfed by hugs from both of his friends, Pomfrey turned gravely to Hagrid.

"I'm sorry, Rubeus, but I have to report this to Minerva-"

"There is no need, Poppy. I already heard." McGonagall swept into the room, reminding Scorpius once again of an elegant gray and black swan.

"Hagrid, what possessed you to take first year students out on the lake-"

"This wasn't Hagrid's fault, Professor," Rose blurted. "It was-"

"It was mine," Scorpius didn't know what possessed him to suddenly take the blame-it was a very unMalfoyish thing to do, but then again, when had he actually behaved as his father kept telling him a Malfoy should? "I got too close and the merpeople misunderstood. I fell out of the boat when they...reacted."

That was only part of what happened. He remembered clearly the water rolling underneath the boat. He was willing to bet his inheritance that _that _had been a spell, not the merpeople. But who had cast it? He had a hunch he knew that, too...

Was it his imagination, or did McGonagall's expression soften ever so slightly? "Regardless of whose fault it is, Mr. Malfoy, it was a foolish thing to do. Hagrid, you are not to take any more classes out on the lake until the warmer months. Is that clear?"

The big man nodded, and with that, McGonagall left. Pomfrey quietly set another potion on the table next to Scorpius's bed, them bustled back to her office. In the sudden quiet, Scorpius realized he was still half tangled in Hagrid's coat. He pulled it off, and held it out to his silent rescuer. "Thank you."

Surprise flashed in those big black eyes, settling into something warmer as he accepted his coat back. "Yer welcome, Mal-eh, Scorpius."

"Um, Hagrid? The rest of the class...?" Rose pointed out quietly.

"Oh! Right!" The big man hurried off. Scorpius looked at his two friends, resigned, knowing what was coming next...

"Scorpius..." Albus dropped the _Compendium _on Scorpius's lap. "I looked at this, before the accident. It's got notes all through it. Very thorough notes. What's going on?"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "You were busy rooting through my bag while I was busy drowning? Thanks, mate." It made sense now. Rose hadn't been worried about her "sick" cousin because she'd known he wasn't really sick. It was just an excuse for him to stay behind and search Scorpius's bag. But Thomas was there, too. And he didn't stop...? Scorpius's eyes widened as the obvious figuratively walked up and slapped him in the face. Thomas didn't stop Albus, because he'd been busy casting the spell that nearly caused him and Rose to drown. But that spell was too advanced for a first year, especially one as sub par as Thomas. Someone taught him the spell. And Scorpius knew exactly who, even if he didn't know their names.

Ignoring Albus's question, Scorpius yelled, "Madame Pomfrey!" As the school nurse rushed back in the room, Scorpius pasted on his most anxious, innocent face as he lied through his teeth. "Ma'am, I think there's something wrong with Albus. He doesn't look so good."

She immediately zeroed in on the young Potter, practically dragging him to another bed. Rose followed, trying to help her cousin convince the nurse he was fine. Meanwhile, Scorpius hurried silently out of the room, the _Compendium _tucked under his arm.

The time for waiting and training in secret had passed. One of his friends had almost got hurt. It was time to stop this.

**A/N: I love plot twists, don't you? They make writing so fun! So, what do you think?**


	7. Midnight Stand

**A/N: Guess what? I'm baaaack! It's been forever since I updated this story. I apologize. I just kind of fell out of this fandom for a bit…Thanks to a rewatching of Deathly Hallows p.2, I got it back. Enjoy :)**

**Chapter 7: Midnight Stand**

Scorpius ran. It didn't consciously occur to him where he was going until they came into view. The rest of the class, Hagrid's class, grouped aimlessly in the corridor and nearby classrooms, waiting for the period to end.

Except one. Thomas stood aloof, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and staring at the toes of his shoes. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to melt into the stone wall at his back.

He didn't see the tip of Scorpius's hawthorn wand until it was in his face, almost touching his nose. When he did, he froze, brown eyes going wide with surprise and fear. Guilt slammed into Scorpius, twisting his guts, and causing his wand to drop slightly. It did nothing to dim his anger, however.

"I know," he growled. His voice, still strained and scratchy from the earlier coughing fits, sounded frighteningly foreign, even to his own ears. "I know who gave you that spell. I know why. Tell them to meet me on the grounds, at midnight, by the lake. We'll settle this."

At the quick, shocked nod he received in response, Scorpius backed off, turning on his heel and taking off down the hall. His thoughts had become a swirling, boilin cauldron of emotions once more, all tumbling around in his brain. It left no room for planning, so Scorpius's feet took him to the one place he felt safe—the deserted seventh floor hallway.

He stopped in front of the blank wall where the Room was, backing up to lean his trembling body against the soothingly cold stone. What in Merlin's name did he just _do_?

He challenged three boys—three _older_ boys, as a matter of fact—to a duel at midnight, that's what he just did. Oh, not in so many words, but the intent had been crystal clear.

He slid down the wall and huddled there at its base, burying his face into his arms and drawing his knees up. He consciously slowed his breathing, forcing his mind to go blank. _Just breathe, Scorpius. That's it, _he thought, in a voice that sounded strangely like Professor Ravenclaw's.

When he calmed down enough for the panicked shaking to stop, he let go of his legs, releasing a long breath as he slid them out flat in front of him. This was what he trained all month for, was it not?

"All right, Scorp. You know what you have to do," he said to the empty corridor firmly. Scorpius was nothing if not a man of his word. No matter what, for better or worse, this would end tonight.

He just needed to prepare.

**…..**

"Very good, Scorpius." Scorpius lowered his wand, panting a little, a fine layer of sweat on his pale forehead.

He had been practicing nonstop with Professor Ravenclaw since his confrontation with Thomas, even skipping dinner in favor of it. That was okay. His stomach was so queasy with nerves, even now, that he doubted he could have eaten even a bite of it, anyway.

As he raised his wand for another go, Ravenclaw leaned on the bottom edge of her frame, head resting on one long, slender hand. "That's enough for now, Scorpius. Go now to your dorm and get some sleep."

"I can't. It's tonight." The words slipped out his mouth before he could stop them. Despite how long they'd spent together in this little library, Scorpius had never told her _why _he needed the special tutoring. Thinking back on it now, the boy was surprised to note that she had never asked him about it, either, not once.

Looking into her hawklike eyes now, though, Scorpius had a feeling she knew, anyway. Or could accurately guess, at any rate.

She smiled at him, a glint of something defiant in her eye. "Exactly. The clever wizard walks onto the field of battle not with a heavy head but with light steps and clear, sharp eyes. Go rest, young Gryffindor, and tell me of your victory tomorrow morning."

Her words made Scorpius smile. It was nice to know that at least _someone _believed in him, even if that someone was a portrait of a long dead witch. "I will. And…Professor? Thank you. For everything."

She nodded gracefully in acknowledgement. Scorpius turned to go, picking up his over robes as he went.

The Gryffindor common room was strangely quiet; only a few students were awake despite the fairly early hour. They paid no attention to Scorpius, and that suited him just fine.

The first years' dorm was just as silent, save for the sound of soft snores and the occasional mutter. Just about every bed was filled; Scorpius noted Albus's tousled dark head as he slipped under the welcomingly cool sheets.

He expected to have some trouble going to sleep, despite his body's tiredness, but that was far from the case. After casting a quick charm to wake him up at the appropriate time, he slipped off into the warm, comforting shores of sleep almost immediately.

**….**

A soft buzzing in his ear sometime later brought Scorpius back to the surface of a thankfully dreamless, peaceful sleep. It was time.

He slipped out of bed soundlessly, sliding his feet back into his shoes. He grabbed his black over robes, pulling them on as he tiptoed out of the room.

The common room below was deserted, the lights dimmed, almost to the point of blackness. As a frequent ignorer of the fairly lax curfew at home, he was used to moving around in the dark, so navigating around the chairs, tables and sofa was nothing new, and certainly not hard for the boy.

The Fat Lady was sleeping soundly in her frame; Scorpius could hear her snoring away from his side of the wall. Pulling his hood up, Scorpius eased open the frame…carefully, so carefully…

Silently thanking his lucky stars that he had inherited his father's thin frame, he slipped out through the crack he had made, the portrait's occupant none the wiser.

Outside, in the corridor, it was both much easier and harder. The thin shafts of moonlight filtering in from the windows made it easier to see, but at the same time, harder to hide. Taking a deep breath, Scorpius started off.

There were a few close calls. He almost walked up on Peeves, but thankfully the poltergeist was too busy rattling suits of armor and spreading chalk dust to notice. Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, almost caught sight of him as he darted around a corner. But then finally, _finally _he was out on the grounds, the cool night wind ruffling his hair and hood, the grass crunching softly underneath his feet.

He couldn't enjoy it, though. He was nervous again, a tight bundle of nerves and panicked energy, poised to snap. It didn't help that there was no sign of anybody else around. The entire world seemed deserted and silent, no movement but the wind ruffling the taller grass. Until—

"Scorpius! What are you doing out here?"

Scorpius's rather unmanly, high-pitched yelp sliced through the night as he whipped around, towards the sound of his best friend's voice.

"Al! What the…? _Why are you a head?!_"

Albus's floating head glared at him. "Never mind that! Why are you out here? If you get caught—if _we_ get caught, we'll be in so much trouble!"

As if on cue, a low, greasy voice said, "Well look what we have here. Students out of bed, at night."

Scorpius froze, ice trickling through his veins. The rest of Albus's body appeared as he turned around slowly, hoping desperately that he had imagined that voice…

He didn't. Filch leered at him, yellowed teeth bared. "Come with me, boys. And don't think of running off, now. It'll be worse for you if you do."

Scorpius fell in behind the odious man, Albus right behind him. Shock quickly turned into the bitter burn of shame, burning in his chest and face.

Of course they wouldn't heed Scorpius's challenge. They had probably been laughing to themselves all the way to Filch's office. Or Thomas had.

Merlin, he had been so _stupid_. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And to make it worse, Al was going to be punished with him. Blameless Al, who had somehow followed him, who had no idea what was really going on…

Once again, he was headed to the Headmistress's office, and once again, Scorpius wanted nothing more than to disappear, melt into the stone like a ghost and never be seen again…

In the office, McGonagall was already waiting for them, black robes pulled on over a white wool nightgown. Her hair was down around her face, but that didn't soften her piercing stare in the least.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said curtly. She had been expecting Scorpius, then. Surprise flickered briefly on her stern features, however, when Albus shuffled in behind him.

"Thank you, Mr. Filch." Filch reluctantly turned and left, leering unpleasantly at Scorpius as he passed him. McGonagall waited until the door thumped softly behind Filch before rounding on them.

"Wandering the school grounds at night? I don't suppose either of you have a proper explanation for it?"

"I-I was following Scorpius," Albus squeaked, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. "He had disappeared for most of the day, and I w-wanted to find out why…"

His squeak of a voice trailed off as McGonagall pinned him directly with her forbidding stare. Oddly, her expression seemed to soften a bit as she held out her hand to him. "Give it to me, Mr. Potter."

Albus's head jerked up, blood draining from his already pale face. "But, Professor-!"

"Mr. Potter." Her tone left no room for argument. Albus pulled something that looked strangely fluid out from under his robes and passed it wordlessly to McGonagall. Her hands seemed to disappear underneath it as she took it. _An…invisibility cloak? _Where did he get one of those…?

"You will get it back after you've served your month's worth of detention with Professor Kimble. Now please wait outside."

Albus nodded. He turned and left swiftly, not once looking at Scorpius.

"Wandering the grounds at night?" McGonagall asked, pinning him next with her stare.

He could tell her everything. Blurt it out, right here and now. He almost did, but a small, niggling feeling of doubt stopped him. What difference would it make, really? He couldn't name his attackers. He had no proof. And he seriously doubted it would affect the punishment he was about to be given, anyway…

So he stayed silent, lifting his chin, hands and arms loose and relaxed behind his back.

McGonagall sighed, but continued on, her voice dropping a fraction lower. "Threatening another student? Mr. Hargreave?"

That he couldn't stay silent to. "He casted the spell that nearly caused Rose and me to drown!" he blurted furiously.

Her face was like stone, not showing whether this information surprised her, or whether she believed him or not. "And I suppose you cannot tell me where Mr. Hargreave would obtain such a spell or why he would use it on you and Miss Weasley?"

Scorpius's jaw tightened. He dropped his gaze, fixing it instead on the clawed foot of the desk.

He heard his Head of House sigh again. "Very well. Fifty points from Gryffindor and a month's worth of detention with Professor Kimble."

Scorpius flinched at the number. He just cost his House its thin lead over Hufflepuff for the House cup…

"You may go." But as Scorpius's hand touched the door: "It may not seem like it, Mr. Malfoy, but I am not your enemy. My door is always open to you."

Surprise wormed its way into Scorpius's paralyzed brain. "T-Thank you, Professor," he managed to stammer out before shutting the door behind him.

Albus was silent the entire way back to the common room. Scorpius had a sinking feeling that it wasn't because Filch was still with them…

His suspicion was confirmed in the common room. The other boy headed straight for the stairs, not once looking at Scorpius.

"Al, wait, I can explain—!" Scorpius blurted.

That earned him the slightest of glances as he started up the stairs. "Just shut up, Scorpius."

**A/N: Sorry it's a shorty. But at least stuff happens, right?**


End file.
